


A French Kiss and a Slippery Nipple

by glasgowgirl92



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3817681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasgowgirl92/pseuds/glasgowgirl92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nixon takes Winters to Chicago for a romantic holiday and ends up getting him drunk in a gay bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A French Kiss and a Slippery Nipple

‘I told you I’d take you here someday.’   
Lew flopped down on the bed, kicking off his shoes. Dick glanced over with a wry smile from where he stood at the glass-panelled balcony doors, then turned back to the bustling expanse of Michigan Boulevard several floors below.   
‘What do you wanna do tomorrow? Lincoln Park? Walk round the harbour, look at the yachts… go to the beach…’  
‘I didn’t bring my bathing suit.’  
‘Even better.’  


A red tram beetled its way along streets already bathed deep in shadow. It was an early summer’s evening: sunlight still brushed the tops of the Chicago skyline’s tallest buildings. Dick looked back at the bed again to see Lew clumsily negotiating the fold-out map, holding it above his head as he lay flat on the mattress.  
‘There’s Lincoln Park Zoo,’ Lew looked over his shoulder and flashed a smirk at him. ‘We could go meet Sobel’s mother.’  
‘That’s a very unkind thing to say,’ Dick replied, not quite able to stifle a grin. 

They’d arrived in Chicago that morning. After checking in at the hotel they’d strolled down the boulevard towards Grant Park, browsing the windows of flashy department stores on their way to Congress Street Plaza and Buckingham Fountain. Dick was a little relieved to have the park so close: exciting as it all was, the crush and grime of city life in August was a far cry from summer in Lancaster County.  


‘This map is useless.’ Lew flung the offending paper onto the floor and began to flip distractedly through their dog-eared guidebook. ‘Did you know that… most of the telephone equipment in the world is manufactured in Chicago?’  
‘You’re the fount of all knowledge, Nix.’  
‘I was an Intelligence Officer, y’know.’  
Dick laughed softly, stepping over a crumpled heap of map on his way to the bed. ‘So, what now? Couple of drinks, maybe an early dinner before the theatre?’  
Lew closed his eyes, smiling at the reference. ‘Nah, I’m beat, let’s order room service.’ 

Reaching up, he grabbed Dick’s hand and pulled him onto the bed. Landing with an uncharacteristic gracelessness that prompted an affectionate flutter in Lew’s chest, Dick ensconced himself between Lew’s legs, muffling a sigh into the curve of his shoulder.  
Dick didn’t wear cologne. He certainly didn’t smell like most men- himself included, Lew supposed- of cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark and intoxicating and somehow forbidding. He wondered sometimes how Dick managed to pass a bar without blushing. During the war he’d smelled of gun oil, shaving soap and sweat, the distinctive scent of cam cream forever sending a perverse tingle along Lew’s spine. Now, turning to press his face against Dick’s, he breathed deep. He remembered lying in the grass in Central Park as a boy, a medal glinting in his hot little hand. He remembered his acceptance letter to Yale: the smell of ink and envelope glue. He remembered the heady-scented wine cellar in Berchtesgaden, and felt again the ecstatic swoop of his heart: a joy so fierce it was almost pain. Lew wrapped his arms tight around Dick’s body, never wanting to breathe anything else ever again.  


‘Ok?’ Dick propped his chin on Lew’s chest, looking up at him.  
‘Yeah,’ Lew forced a grin. ‘Yeah just don’t crease the suit, alright? I wanna take you out later.’ He wriggled backwards slightly, propping himself up on his elbows. Dick dutifully rolled off to one side, folding his hands beneath his head, observing Lew with that maddening little half-smile.  
‘Where to?’  
‘There’s a little place on Randolph Street I think you’ll like.’  
Dick raised his eyebrows. ‘Hmm. “Chicago’s Rialto”.’  
Lew chuckled, leaning across Dick’s chest to steal a kiss. ‘Look who’s been reading the guidebook.’

***

 

They ducked in off the street, Lew ghosting one hand innocuously against Dick’s elbow. The bar was softly lit, voices humming in the air, mixed with the smooth pulse of jazz music. Mostly men, a few women dotted about in surreptitious pairs. A sort of tension prevailed over everything, Dick thought: glances were too soft and lasted too long, hands lingered on an arm or a shoulder or a wrist. The spaces between people swayed and collapsed and re-formed again as if nothing had happened.  


‘Exactly what kind of bar is this?’  
Lew shot him a mischievous glance. ‘Our kind. No necking allowed- tragically- and no funny business in the restroom either. Just try to keep a low profile.’  
Lew weaved expertly through the throng at the bar, his body swaying to the same strange dance that enthralled everyone around them. Dick followed, feeling jostled by the crowd. Lew turned and waited for him before catching the barman’s eye with a grin. ‘We’ll have a French Kiss and a Slippery Nipple.’  
‘Nix, no.’  
‘Fine, fine…’ He leaned conspiratorially over the bar, raising his eyebrows. ‘How much do you charge for a Hummer?’  
_‘Lewis.’_  
‘Jeez, Dick, would you relax?’ Lew glanced back at him, smirking. ‘I gotta say though, I’m surprised at your grasp of the terminology.’  
Dick didn’t rise to the bait. ‘I don’t need to know what it means to tell when you’re up to something.’

Lew laughed, relaxed and easy, and Dick felt a pang of envy taint the usual rush of affection, wondering how Lew could act as if this were the most ordinary thing in the world. He felt as though he had stumbled into a dream.  
‘Vat 69, on the rocks, and your finest Hummer for my good friend.’ Lew glanced at Dick again, a glint in his eye. ‘Go easy on him, he’s a virgin.’  
Dick allowed himself a brief smile. ‘Not strictly true, actually.’  
That certainly caught Lew’s attention. As they waited for their drinks, Dick told him about D-Day: the incident with Guarnere that had seemed so trivial after losing Hall, and afterwards had been forgotten in the chaos of taking Carentan. Lew regarded him suspiciously, shaking his head.  
‘What was it?’  
Dick shrugged. ‘Disgusting.’  
Lew rolled his eyes. The barman reappeared with Lew’s whisky, and what looked to Dick suspiciously like a milkshake. Before Dick could protest, Lew had taken the drinks and was leading the way to a corner booth. 

‘If this is you _keeping a low profile_ , then God help us,’ Dick said, sliding into the booth. Lew just fixed him with a look, pushing the Hummer across the table towards him. They shuffled close to each other, elbows just touching. Under the table, Dick felt Lew’s leg hook around the back of his calf. He stared at the drink, nonplussed.  
‘Come on, it’s basically just vanilla ice cream. You love vanilla ice cream. It’s even got coffee in it.’ Lew watched as Dick took a dubious sip, then magnanimously patted him on the back as he began to choke and splutter. ‘Well… coffee liqueur.’  
‘The things I do for love.’ Dick looked at Lew, allowing his gaze to linger a few seconds more than he would usually dare. The word tingled like a burn on his tongue. He’d told Lew he loved him a thousand times: whispered it into his mouth, moaned it across his skin. There was something different about saying it here, and with some amount of surprise he realised it was not the danger of getting caught. It was the normalcy of this: taking one’s lover to a bar and sharing a drink, exchanging a smile and a declaration of love as casually as young men and women held hands in the street. It was the brief glimpse of a love that did not have to be illicit in order to be exciting. Dick wondered, fleetingly, if the sweetness of such a moment was worth the pain of its transience. He took another sip of his cocktail and grimaced.  


‘It doesn’t taste much like ice cream.’  
‘You’re pushing the straw too low- here-‘ Lew pulled the straw further up and took a brief sip himself for good measure. ‘Try it now.’ Dick obliged, and this time the sweetness of vanilla just about masked the tang of rum underneath.  
‘Not bad,’ he nodded, giving a little huff of laughter at Lew’s triumphant expression. ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m making an exception since we’re on holiday.’  
Lew shrugged. ‘I guess I oughta be flattered. You didn’t even make an exception in Berchtesgaden.’  
‘Yeah well, Hitler wasn’t my type.’

They laughed together, the tense line of Dick’s shoulders yielding a little. Lew watched the way he cradled the drink in both hands, taking small, frequent sips, still scanning the room one furtive glance at a time.  
‘You’ve been to… places like this before?’  
Lew shrugged. ‘Sometimes. It’s not just people like us. Places like this attract a certain kinda crowd: bohemians, actors, celebrities...’  
‘A civilised place for civilised men.’ Dick glanced at him, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. Lew smiled into his drink.  
‘I doubt there’s an equivalent in Lancaster County.’  


For a moment, Dick went completely still: an almost imperceptible change, but one that Lew recognised. He waited. ‘I never really…’ Dick reached for the straw in his cocktail, twisting it, stirring the ice cream into coffee-streaked swirls. When they finally came, his words were low and soft. ‘I love _you_ , Nix. I don’t know about anyone else.’  
Lew felt a throb in his chest. He shifted his leg against Dick’s, allowing his knuckles to graze briefly along the back of Dick’s hand as he moved to pick up his glass. For now, that would have to be enough.  


‘Well, if you’re gonna insist on whispering sweet nothings in my ear, I’ll be needing another one of these,’ he shook the glass at Dick, ice cubes clinking. ‘And I think it’s time to move you onto something a little stronger-‘ Lew ignored Dick’s protests, sliding out of the booth and looking over his shoulder with a grin- ‘by the end of the night I’ll have you knocking back strawberry Daiquiris like the grizzled old soldier you are!’

***

 

By the end of the night, Lew had done nothing of the sort. A further two empty milkshake glasses stood lined up on the table, alongside Nix’s rather more impressive collection. For lifelong teetotaller Dick Winters, however, three cocktails had done the job just fine. He leaned over the table, propping himself up on his elbows, a rogue blob of ice cream melting steadily on one shirtsleeve.  


‘So, what do you think of Chicago so far?’ Lew asked, watching with no small amount of amusement.  
‘It’s… busy.’ Dick’s hair was ruffled on one side: a detail which Lew found unaccountably adorable.  
‘Maybe next time you should take me to Lancaster County.’  
Dick swayed in his seat. ‘Hmm. So much to see and do.’  
‘Like what?’  
‘…Cows. The Rhubarb Festival. Bog turtles.’  
_‘Bog turtles?’_ Lew squinted incredulously, knocking back his final glass. Dick just nodded, eyelids drooping slightly. ‘Sounds like a riot.’ Dick’s only reply was a hiccup that echoed across the now half-empty bar. It took Lew a moment to stifle his laughter.  
‘Ok, let’s get you back to the hotel.’  
‘I feel fine, Lew.’  
‘Yeah, just wait ‘til you try standing up…’

They made it out of the bar and weaved slowly back to the hotel, Dick’s arm slung across Lew’s shoulders. By the time they’d negotiated the elevator and made it back to their room, Lew suspected that Dick had sobered up enough to no longer really need to lean against him quite so heavily.  
‘Come on, let’s get you into bed.’  
Lew was turning to close the door behind them when he felt Dick lurch into his shoulder. Thinking Dick was about to fall, he twisted backwards- only to find himself being shoved against the door. Dick ran a hand along Lew’s ribs, pulling his shirt upwards, palm grazing the skin underneath.  
‘Okay.’  


There was a rasp in Dick’s voice that set a warm tightness spreading through the muscles in Lew’s groin. He leaned back against the door, feeling the rest of his body melt into Dick’s hard grasp. His breath fluttered in his throat. Dick nuzzled at Lew’s mouth, grinning lopsidedly as Lew whined, lips open and trembling. Dick’s eyes were heavy-lidded, his breath hot and sweet with the tang of rum. His kiss was harsh and dirty, scraping Lew’s skin with his teeth, muffling his little cries with an eager tongue. Lew could feel himself getting hard, his skin growing taut, straining for Dick’s touch. He tried to focus, still reeling from the initial onslaught. Dick had always been quietly confident, similar in lovemaking to all aspects of his life, but this…  
‘Dick…’ His voice was husky, trailing into a gasp as Dick nosed against his jaw, exposing his throat, kissing the spot just below his ear that sent a shudder along every inch of his skin. _‘Dick.’_  
‘What.’ Dick’s words vibrated in his chest, pressed tight against Lew’s. Breathing through his nose to avoid any more encouraging moans, Lew snaked one hand between them and planted it firmly on Dick’s shoulder. A space opened between them, pulsing softly, charged with desire. 

‘You’re drunk, it isn’t right.’ Lew screwed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the tense, empty ache between his legs. Dick laughed softly, leaning against Lew’s palm. Lew could easily hold his weight, yet his arm trembled.  
‘You’re drunk all the time.’ His voice was dark and low, stained by the dirty little smile that played across his face. Lew knew it was the booze talking but, oh, to watch Dick’s inhibitions melt away… it was like discovering a secret part of his body yet to be kissed.  
‘Well, yeah, but I’m used to it.’  


‘Lew-' Dick palmed roughly at the side of Lew’s face, forcing his gaze upwards. He still swayed a little, but his grey eyes were clear and focused. ‘I’ve had a few drinks but I’m a grown man and I know that I want you. I’m not asking you to ravish me. I’m not asking you to do _anything_ to me.’ He wrapped a hand around Lew’s wrist, the space between them caving slowly. ‘If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.’ He slid the suit jacket from Lew’s shoulders, finding again the bare skin of his back, fingers travelling ever lower until they dug into the already tightened muscles of his thigh: a moment of unbearable pressure soothed just slightly by the sudden press of Dick’s erection against his own. ‘Do you want me to stop?’ Lew could only moan in reply, rubbing his body against Dick’s, every nerve screaming _touch me, touch me._ ‘Do you want me to stop?’  
‘No,’ Lew’s breath caught in his throat as Dick began unbuttoning his shirt, marking each new inch of exposed skin with a kiss. ‘Christ, no.’ 

Lew shrugged off his shirt and braced himself against the door as Dick slid to his knees, tugging Lew’s belt open. The shock of cool air on his exposed thighs made his skin prickle. Shedding Lew of his remaining clothes, Dick traced one hand along the hard curve of his calf muscle, pausing behind the sensitive spot at the back of his knee. Lew’s cock twitched heavily as Dick pressed his mouth against the inside of his thigh, hot and wet, sucking lightly at the sensitive flesh. Moving slowly upwards, Dick glanced into Lew’s eyes as he ran his tongue along the v-shaped ridge of his abdomen, pushing backwards with his free hand as Lew’s hips jerked involuntarily. The pressure was unbearable now, every muscle sprung tight, begging to be released.  
‘Y’know, you’re a real asshole when you’re drunk,’ Lew managed to gasp out. Dick’s breath of laughter burned on his skin.  
‘Let me make it up to you.’ Dick looked up at him again, his lips flushed and open and tantalisingly close. Lew dared not keep his eyes open, grasping the door handle in one fist as Dick finally, finally took him into his mouth.  


‘Oh, God.’  
Dick took him deep then pulled up, using his hand where his mouth couldn’t reach, every so often twisting slightly along Lew’s slicked length. Each tug of suction sent Lew’s nerves flaring, each pulse of blood coursing through him with a shiver of delight. Dick bobbed down, then on the upstroke pressed his tongue along the underside of Lew’s cock, lingering just below the head. Lew groaned, fighting the impulse to thrust forward into the smouldering heat of Dick’s mouth. The tension that had been so blessedly relieved began to build again, as if he were filled with so much pleasure that his body would break and burst under the weight of it. He felt his fingers in Dick’s hair without realising he had been grasping, pulling… Dick stopped abruptly and got to his feet.

‘Dick, fuck, I’m sorry, I…’ Lew cursed himself internally. Fucking idiot. He just had to get carried away and shove himself down Dick’s throat. After getting him drunk, no less. Fuck. _Fuck._  
He was startled from his reverie by Dick’s hand around his waist, pulling him roughly away from the door.  
‘Bed.’ Dick’s fair eyes had turned dark as steel, the tracks of Lew’s fingers still visible in his tousled hair. Lew slipped the suit jacket from Dick’s shoulders as Dick backed him toward the bed, shoving him down onto the mattress. Lew sat up and reached forward, fumbling with Dick’s belt buckle, tugging at his trousers with trembling fingers as Dick pulled his shirt over his head. Staring upwards for a moment, Lew ran his fingertips over the newly bared flesh. Dick’s mouth fell open, his bottom lip still swollen and gleaming. 

Lew took Dick’s cock in one hand and stroked slowly, feeling him throb and leak in his grasp. The growl that rose in the back of Dick’s throat sent a tremor across his scalp and down his spine. Dick crawled onto the bed and pushed Lew down with a hand on his shoulder, settling between his splayed legs, rocking against him. As they kissed- messy half-kisses that fractured into gasps- Dick slid his hand down the back of Lew’s thigh and towards his ass. Lew moaned as Dick shuffled lower, rubbing the tip of his cock gently against his opening.  
‘Ready?’  
‘Yeah. Yeah.’  
Dick reached down hurriedly to the suitcase lying open by the side of the bed, returning with a little tub of Vaseline. Lew watched the flutter of Dick’s eyelids as he slicked himself with one deft hand, an anticipatory pulse running through his own cock. Dick threw the tub onto the floor with a clatter and lifted Lew’s thighs up and back, pushing against him, into him…

‘Okay?’  
‘Fuck. Yes, just…’ Lew curled his fingers around Dick’s elbow, trying to pull him closer. Dick smiled, sweet and wicked, and slid Lew’s legs upwards until they rested on his shoulders. He pushed forward again, agonisingly slow. Lew breathed out as Dick filled him, stretching a little further with each stroke. He tried to relax into the pain, knowing that the pleasure would come: that true sweetness sometimes requires a little suffering. Dick’s jaw was clenched, with pleasure or the effort of restraint, growling low in the back of his throat at every thrust. Lew bit his lip, watching eagerly. A warm, thrilling glow began to build gradually inside him, gentler than the ecstasy of Dick’s mouth on his cock but deeper, as if the pleasure had seeped through his skin and into every drop of blood now singing through his body. His breaths became louder, groans giving way to wordless cries until Dick fell forward and stifled them with his mouth.  


‘Shh’, Dick urged, his own voice torn by an involuntary moan. They moved together, Lew arching upward into Dick’s grasp as the feeling grew and ripened and strained against his skin and it had to be now, now, now-  
‘Dick-‘ Lew pushed against his chest, creating a space between them, wrapping his fingers around himself and working feverishly along the swollen length of his cock. Dick responded, driving faster and deeper, his mouth open and wanton and his eyes locked determinedly on Lew’s. A wave of heat flushed over Lew’s skin, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen clenching, his breath caught in his throat. He was full and heavy and tight and the feeling was too much, too much, pulsing though him and spilling over… he held on just long enough to see the shudder of release take hold of Dick’s body and then he was bursting, sobbing, paralysed by an explosion of pure relief. 

They lay still for a few moments, wrapped in one another, breathing hard. Lew’s cock twitched lazily. His head felt light, every muscle in his body spent and glowing.  
‘Well, that was different,’ he laughed exhaustedly, his hands skimming over Dick’s back. ‘I get you drunk and then _you_ take advantage of _me.’_  
Dick chuckled, kissing Lew’s chest. ‘Next time let’s skip the drinking and get right to the taking advantage.’ He extricated himself from their sweaty tangle of limbs, padding over to the side-table to pour himself a glass of water. Lew sprawled back across the mattress and watched him take a drink. The low light cast shadows into the lean curves of his muscular frame, gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat.  


‘Typical,’ Lew groused, running a hand through the damp mess of his hair. ‘I feel like I’ve just double-timed it up Currahee and there you are, strutting around like a fucking Adonis.’  
Dick looked back at him with a smirk. ‘Maybe you need more practice.’ He put the empty glass down with a decisive clink and headed towards the bathroom. ‘Come on. Shower.’  
Lew groaned, turning to press his face against the pillow. The covers felt deliciously soft and cool. ‘Tomorrow.’  
‘Get in here, Lewis.’  
_Lewis._ He was in trouble. The sound of running water drifted faintly into the bedroom. ‘Alright, alright…’ Lew pushed himself up with a sigh. ‘It better not be cold, I know what you’re like.’

***

 

A cooling breeze played its way through the trees in Lincoln Park, carrying with it the sounds of the city: a turmoil of car-horns and raised voices, faint in the distance. Some way off, the silhouettes of tall buildings were just visible through the mid-afternoon heat haze. Dick sat in the lush grass, Lew reclining at his side with a half-spent cigarette in one hand.  
‘Should’ve brought a picnic.’  
Lew nodded in agreement, taking another drag. ‘Hmm. I’m starved.’

They were sitting at the edge of a lagoon, its lapping waters disturbed by a number of row-boats pottering aimlessly up and down. Young kids laughed and splashed each other with the oars. Girls trailed their hands in the water as their sweethearts rowed. Lew turned his head to the side, watching them. ‘It looks like that Seurat painting… y’know, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of… something something.’  
Dick didn’t know, but he smiled anyway. Across the lagoon, the Grant Memorial loomed majestically over everything: cold and somehow ominous. Dick looked away, turning onto his stomach, his head beside Lew’s. The grass had left a tangle of fine lines pressed into the skin of his palm. 

‘God dammit…’ Lew had fished the ever-present hip flask from his pocket, but flung it to the grass unopened, instead sucking angrily on the stub of his cigarette. The tell-tale glug of liquid was absent.  
‘Empty?’ Dick ventured, watching him. Lew gave a terse little nod, then sighed, the hard line of his jaw relaxing.  
‘I, uh…’ His head tilted towards Dick, his eyes hidden by those damn sunglasses. ‘I forgot.’ He ground his cigarette into the grass, ripping up a handful of blades and scattering them aimlessly. ‘I emptied it down the toilet on the train yesterday.’  
Dick’s heartbeat stumbled in his chest. He glanced sharply at Lew, then forced his gaze away.  
‘Oh?’ he asked with careful indifference, hoping his expression was blank.  
‘Yeah.’ For a moment there was only the sound of the wind: ruffling Lew’s hair, sending ripples sparkling across the lagoon. ‘I wanted to be here for this. With you.’  
Dick rubbed at the grass-marks on his palm. His fingers trembled. ‘You drank last night.’  
‘That was a special occasion.’ Lew smiled at him, but the lines of his mouth were heavy, his eyes still obscured. ‘I had to share a drink with you just once, didn’t I?’  


Dick blinked back the sudden tingling warmth behind his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched. Lew shook his head, as if shaking such thoughts from his mind, and fixed him with a trademark smirk. ‘Don’t get too excited, Dick, it was the train to Chicago not the road to Damascus.’  
Dick grinned anyway. ‘I want to kiss you.’  
Lew hummed contentedly. ‘Later. Soon.’ He stretched out across the grass with an enormous sigh, folding his hands behind his head. ‘Let’s get some food first.’  
‘I saw an ice cream parlour out on the boulevard.’  
Lew’s sudden burst of laughter startled a flock of goldfinches from a nearby tree. They swooped over the lagoon: a shower of sunny feathers, drawing whoops and cries from the boaters below. He sat up, looking down at Dick with a quizzical smile.  
‘Well, we all have our vices.’

Helping each other to their feet, they ambled leisurely away, disappearing into the shaded thicket of trees that spread along the lagoon’s shore. All that remained to mark their presence was the crumpled stub of a cigarette, and beside it a flash of silver glinting in the sun: a hipflask, lying forgotten in the long grass.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was partially inspired by a scene in Perpetual Motion's beautiful and much-recommended series A New Mode of Living, where Lipton and Speirs bump into Nixon and Winters in a certain speciality club. 
> 
> The cocktails are not historically accurate. Sorry!


End file.
